All Over Again
by untouchable122
Summary: In a world filled with darkness, orcs, dangerous secrets, Legolas, Arya and the rest of the crew must fight to save Middle Earth one more time, against an enemy no one would have ever expected existed. (Legolas x OC)
1. Chapter 1

(Note; this is my first ever attempt at writing anything related to the Lord of the Rings, so please bear with me! Comments and criticism is welcomed of course).

**DISCLAIMER**

For entertainment purposes only.

* * *

All Over Again

* * *

A shadow hung over the docking bay, deeper than the bluest midnight. The sharp tangy smell of seawater permeated the night air like a thick blanket. At first, Arya had relished the smell of the ocean so close. At Rohan, if she stood on the top of the White Mountains she could see the ocean stretching for miles and miles and feel the gentle sea breezes caress her face. It had always given her a sense of peace and serenity, but not now. Nope, right now it felt as if someone had stuffed packets of salt up her nose. Open packets of salt. The saline smell hung so heavily in the night air that she had to resist the urge to hack and cough like she had a frog stuck in her throat.

The full moon was obscured by a flock of thick and bloated thunderclouds that didn't even allow the barest fingers of moonlight to peek through, and Arya couldn't decide whether that was a good or bad thing. The utter lack of light hid their hiding spot behind a box of crates well enough, but it also made things a hell of a lot more difficult to see. She could barely see the nose in front of her face, much less the person they were "following."

She turned to her partner for what seemed like the millionth time and said, "Psst! Hey, pointy-ears! Any sign of him yet?"

The shadow next to her, the one more ominous than the rest, shifted slightly, and for a moment, she saw a flash of annoyance cross his intense blue eyes. "No," Legolas said shortly, then turned away from her.

Arya folded her thin arms across her chest and made a face, shifting restlessly to get the blood flowing back into her legs again. She and Legolas had been in the same crouching positions for what seemed like hours, with Legolas keeping a lookout around the side of the crate while Arya tried her best to keep herself entertained (which wasn't working at all). "If he doesn't show up soon," she threatened grumpily, "then I'm leaving."

Legolas didn't say anything so Arya continued venting her frustration.

"It's past dinner time, and I'm cold and wet and tired and grumpy. Why did Aragorn have to send us here? We could have investigated Isengard just as well as freaking Theo and the she-elf! But no, instead he sends us on board an old stinky ship to look for some man that we know next to nothing about. And just when we're about to leave, who shows up but the man we're looking for! Then we have to stay on the damn ship and let it take us to who the hell knows where we are! And then, to top it all off, pointy-ears here decides to push me into the water just as we're getting off—"

Legolas suddenly whirled around, startling her so bad that she jerked away from him, the edge of the dagger poking one of her numb legs. "Arya, be quiet," the elf said calmly despite his sudden motion.

Arya scowled, refusing to be intimidated. "Legolas, I'm cold and I'm wet and my legs are asleep. Can we please go back now? That guy already knows we're here."

"And whose fault is that?" Legolas asked flatly.

"Are you saying it's my fault!" she demanded, squinting at him in the darkness until she could just make out his blue eyes glittering faintly in the darkness. "You're the one that knocked me into the water, Legolas!"

"No," Legolas said without a trace of emotion. "You slipped in a puddle and fell into the pool. I had nothing to do with your mishap. And while we're on the subject, our quarry would have no idea of our presence if you hadn't insisted on yelling and screaming after you had your accident."

"It was no accident!" Arya insisted, knowing she was whining and not caring. "Someone pushed me and that someone had to be you!"

"I told you before that you slipped in the puddle. All I did was pull you out of the water. Blame me if it will ease your state of mind and keep you from complaining. I don't care either way." He turned away again, the end of his green cloak brushing her leg in the darkness.

Arya pouted, but kept her mouth shut. It was bad enough that she was here, even worse that she was here with Legolas. Not that Legolas was a bad guy. In fact, he was okay if you wanted someone who didn't talk much, and he was kind of good-looking in a twisted sort of way, but he definitely wasn't Arya's idea of amiable company. Why couldn't Aragorn have partnered her up with Theo, who would probably at least sympathize with Arya's soaking wet and miserable condition? Even Will or Lhiannah would have been better company than Elf Boy.

"Hey, Legolas," she said again, glancing at the statue-still shadow next to her.

"Yes, Arya?"

"I need to go to the bathroom."

"There's a lovely pool of seawater three steps to your left."

Arya's mouth dropped open. "Did the dark and gloomy Legolas just make a joke? Wow, and I was here to witness it. Theo and Lhiannah will be so jealous. But that still doesn't change the situation. I have to go to the bathroom!"

Legolas turned to stare at her again. "What do you want me to say, Arya?"

"How about, 'Oh, Arya, since I know you're wet and cold because I pushed you in the stinky seawater that was probably filled with gross amoebas and who knows what, let me go find you a nice clean inn where you can rest, eat, and go to the bathroom.' I think you should say something like that, Legolas."

"How about, 'Piss on yourself'?"

Arya's mouth dropped open again, but she managed to sputter out, "That was so rude, Legolas! I see you've been hanging around Gimli a bit too much!"

"Actually, I think it was spending two hours with you on a boat and then waiting here with you for one more hour that did the trick."

Arya punched him in what she hoped was his shoulder. "You're so mean to me, pointy-ears! Next time, leave me in the sea water with the amoebas; I'm sure they'd be better company than you!"

"Forgive me, Arya," he said flatly. "I'm afraid I'm not in the best of moods tonight. I'm sorry for insulting you."

"No, you're not," she grumbled. "But I'll just pretend your apology was sincere. At least we can be cold and miserable together."

He didn't reply; he simply turned away from her and continued to watch for their quarry. Arya drew her trembling knees up to her chest and shivered, pushing impatiently at her shoulder-length hair.

The young girl sighed inwardly and found herself reflecting on all the things that had happened in the past years, something she had started making a habit of. It had been three long years and now Middle Earth was growing more peaceful than ever. Her thoughts shifted to Lady Éowyn. Thanks to the Noble woman, females have started to have a much more active role. Joining the Kings Guard was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to Arya. It meant a home – a purpose.

Yes, life had been good…until two months ago, when they decided that she should join pointy-ears into some sort of secret investigation. The elf too hadn't been all too happy to have her as company either. Which brought her to the present moment, soaking wet and stuck in the docking bay next to a rotting and seemingly abandoned boat. Now she had no idea where she was, what time it was, how long they were going to be here, or if they would even get a chance to apprehend the mysterious man. All she knew was that she was cold, wet, tired, and ready to let pointy-ears to fend for himself.

Arya shivered again and rubbed her bare arms. She glanced over at Legolas, who despite what he has said earlier, looked warm and toasty in his long green cape and black pants.

"Hey, Legolas," she spoke up again. "Can I use your—"

Her entreaty was cut short when her dark companion suddenly spun around and clamped a hand over her mouth. Though her first instinct was to struggle until she was released, she quickly repressed it, trusting Legola's senses and knowing that he rarely touched anyone for any reason. She flicked her eyes to the side and was just able to see a shadowy blur as Legolas shifted closer to her.

"I saw him," he whispered, lips close to her ear. His warm breath against her ear sent pleasurable chills running down her spine. Strands of blonde hair flopped forward to caress her cheek, and she was suddenly aware of how close he was, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Suddenly, she wasn't cold any more.

"He went down a stairwell to a lower level," he continued, oblivious to the change that had overtaken her. "Just follow me. Do you understand?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

Legolas removed his hand from her mouth and crept closer to the edge of the crate, peering out from behind it to see that there was no one hanging around the docking bay. He readied his bow, and seeing this, Arya followed in suit, trying to work the kinks out of her muscles as she did so.

The elf stepped out from behind the crate and into the open, motioning for Arya to follow him. The young girl did so, wincing as her knees and back popped loudly, protesting so much movement after being inactive for almost an hour.

Keeping as quiet as possible, she followed her shadowy partner into the darkness until the inky black seemed to swallow them whole.


	2. Chapter 2

**A big thanks to LalaithElerrina and Creidhe1 for reviewing!**

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All Over Again

II

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It took several seconds for Arya's eyes to adjust to the darkness, and even then, she probably couldn't see half as good as the blonde elf. She found herself groping blindly in the darkness, keeping her gaze locked on the dark form of Legola's flapping cape just a few feet away from her. From what her hands touched, she speculated that they were in some sort of ridiculous maze of crates and would probably have gotten hopelessly lost without Legola's sight to guide them. All that she could see was dark, hulking shapes all around her that anything could have been hiding behind.

A chill ran down her spine as an unexpected irrational feeling of terror and foreboding bloomed in her heart, obliterating all other thoughts or emotions in its intensity. She forced herself to think that she was being silly. It was only one man, right? Besides, she was with Legolas. She had heard of all his accomplishments in the war. Will was always telling the story of the battle in Helm's Deep, how he had watched first-hand the elf fight. Also, she trusted him. Taking a deep breath, Arya's eyes suddenly grew as she noticed that Legolas was far ahead.

"Legolas!" she hissed, her heartbeat thudding in her ears as she hurried to catch up, "Don't leave me back here!"

The moving shadow that was Legolas suddenly stopped moving and faded into nothing in the darkness. She could no longer see which shadow was Legolas. Panic instantly rose in her, unbidden and uncharacteristic. She hadn't even been this scared when they had encountered those damn Wargs last week. What the heck was wrong with her now?

"Legolas!" She whispered in a panic, "Where are you?!"

All thoughts of trusting him disappeared as fast as lightning. She began insulting him heavily under her breath as she stalked forward, her hand ready to pull her sword at any moment. She focused hard on her surroundings, hoping to be able to pick on any sound. There was nothing worse to stand alone in the dark with a dreadful silence as your sole companion. Arya came to a sudden stop as she heard the loud sound of a door closing, "Legolas?" she queried again, this time not able to hide her fear. Swallowing hard, she began running.

Unfortunately, she had only taken two running strides before she ran into something tall, with blue eyes and a green cape. His free hand immediately flew around her slender shoulders and clasped her to its warm body. The young girl let a terrified yelp as she looked up, "You!" she gasped in a mixture of terror and relief. She gritted her teeth, feeling ashamed and angry to find herself on the verge of tears, "Don't do that! Don't disappear on me!"

Legola's hand tightened its grip around her shoulders with surprising gentleness. Glancing around and seeing no immediate danger, he put his bow back in its place and rested his hand on Arya's lower back. She was shaking so hard that he almost expected to hear her bones rattling.

"Arya, you are safe." He said in his soft, deep voice, attempting to offer some kind of solace even though it was out of character to do so, "What is it?" he tried again when she did not respond to his initial statement.

She shook her head as she gently pushed away from him, "I don't know. There's something here, Legolas," she suddenly whispered, sweat rolling down her forehead in beads.

He whirled his head to the side where the sound had come from. His brows furrowed ever so slightly. So he hadn't been imagining it. The girl could feel it too, "I'm sure it is nothing," he replied calmly, "Now let us go. He went this way."

She shivered but nodded. He was probably right. This time she clasped her hand onto his cape and followed closely. She straightened up and got herself together. She the last thing she wanted was to be a burden to their mission, whatever it was. All that had been disclosed to her was that this man was suspected to be behind the sudden and hideous massacres. Images of butchered children piled together still plagued her dreams.

He led her then through the darkness until they finally stopped to face a door. Beside him, Arya was breathing heavily, her big green eyes darting left and right as she searched for whatever she thought was lurking in the darkness. Without a word, he opened the door and both faced the strange spiral stairwell. The steps were metal and almost every inch of them was spotted with rust. Legolas winced slightly when they creaked under the weight of the girl. He took a deep breath and refrained to reprimand her. After all she was not as agile nor had the experience as he.

Once on top they were met with an empty room. Arya's heart was beating so loud and fast that it was a wonder it didn't create echoes. She scrutinized the room to find it completely devoid of furniture. The room smelled of seawater and smoke. "Do you see anything?" she asked quietly.

But before she was met with a response, she was thrown backwards. Gasping, she lost her balance and fell backwards, down the stairs. Legolas quickly withdrew his bow, his aim ready at the shadow in front of him. For the first time in centuries, his hands were shaking. The smell that was attacking his nostrils was a terrible scent of rotten flesh. His enhanced sight could see clearly what was ahead of him, he narrowed his eyes.

"What are you!?" he asked; demanded to know.

A loud growl echoed in the room. Legolas shot. With horror, he realised he missed. The creature was too fast; it lunged at him before he had time to pull another arrow. His back met the woodened floor with a loud thud. For a moment he lay frozen staring deeply into the red eyes of the creature on top of him. At first he thought it was some sort of a mutated orc but then he could see the human traces. Then its mouth open to reveal sharp teeth, its tongue like a snake's came out and it attempted to lick Legola's face. The elf managed to get a hold of it, a groan escaped from his lips as it burned his hand.

"LEGOLAS!"

Arya's scream seemed to bring him back from his daze. He kicked the creature off him and quickly stabbed its throat with an arrow. His eyes widened as instead of blood, green thick liquid came out. He didn't have time to dwell on it, he quickly jumped down the stairs, this time with a firm hold on his bow, he shot the two other creatures making their way towards his human companion.

She looked back at him in horror, her back against the wall as one of the creatures slid down of her sword's blade.

"W-what in the Gods names are they!?" She yelled as her entire body shook with trepidation. This was certainly not what she had signed for! Orcs were one thing… this was something entirely else.

"We need to get out." He looked back at her, satisfied that she did not present any wounds.

"But the man-"

"Is no longer here." He whirled around and began walking back to where they had come from.

She quickly followed him, forcing her arms and legs faster, hearing Legola's harsh breathing as he too picked up speed.

* * *

As Arya and Legolas strode defiantly into the inn, onlookers turned and gasped at the sight of the waterlogged and ravaged travellers the tempest had blown in, eyes taking in their battle-worn bodies and dripping clothes. Arya had suspected that she and Legolas looked bad, but judging from the looks on everyone's faces, she upgraded 'her' appearance from just 'bad' something closer to ghastly and hideous. Sneaking a glance at the blonde elf she pouted as he didn't look that bad. She followed Legolas up to the counter where the chubby dark-haired woman was looking at them with a mixture of distaste, fear and suspicion.

"M'lady we need two rooms for the night, please." Legolas said with a gentleness politeness as his waterlogged cloak and dripping hair made a puddle of water beneath his feet. Although he didn't appear at all bothered by the stares of the others costumers, Arya was uncomfortable enough for the both of them.

"Um, sir? The woman started cautiously, "We only have one room left tonight."

"Oh Gods!" Arya exclaimed incredulously, "one room? Are you sure?"

Both Arya and Legolas watched her intently, willing her to be wrong. The woman squirmed underneath the elf's intense gaze but then confirmed what she had said earlier, "One room is all we have left, I'm afraid."

"We'll take it." Legolas said ignoring the way Arya's mouth hung open, "Here you go m'am." He slipped a couple of coins, trying very hard to pretend that Arya wasn't fuming beside him.

Arya rolled her eyes as she and Legolas climbed the stairs, "Oh please!" She snarled under her breath, in a huffy mood and making no effort to conceal it. For some reason, she was extremely uncomfortable with the fact that she would be sharing a room alone with pointy-ears for the night. It wasn't like Legolas was not trustworthy or something. She knew he was quite the gentleman but he struck her as somewhat weird.

"Hey Legolas?" She suddenly asked as they approached their room.

"Yes Arya?" He replied calmly, studying the closed rooms, apparently having gotten tired of scolding her with his eyes.

"Are you like… sleeping on the floor?"

He gave her no answer and opened the room, motioning for her to precede him through the door. She quickly scampered through the doorway, flushing slightly at the chivalry he was showing a little brat like her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "It has two beds!" she instantly relaxed and felt so much more relieved. She turned around to find Legolas leaning against the door frame, his head bent, his hand clutched to his chest.

"Le-"

She walked to him - everything seemed to happen in slow motion as the blond elf stumbled forward. She stretched her arms and caught him right before he crashed against the floor. She looked down at him, her green eyes wide with concern.

"Legolas? W-what's the matter?"

His eyes shot open, "A-rya. Go. Ride to G-"but before he could finish, his head fell back and he slipped into unconsciousness. That's when she noticed, the horrendous green colour spreading slowly on the elf's hand.

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(Note: Goodness. Two reviews :D I couldn't be any happier. I hope you will all enjoy this chapter as well! What are your thoughts on Arya? On the next chapter, everything about Legolas and Arya's mission will be clearer! And we will be hearing of Aragorn too! So please drop a review!)


	3. Chapter 3

All Over Again

III

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_He gave her no answer and opened the room, motioning for her to precede him through the door. She quickly scampered through the doorway, flushing slightly at the chivalry he was showing a little brat like her._

"_Oh!" she exclaimed, "It has two beds!" she instantly relaxed and felt so much more relieved. She turned around to find Legolas leaning against the door frame, his head bent, his hand clutched to his chest. _

"_Le-"_

_She walked to him - everything seemed to happen in slow motion as the blond elf stumbled forward. She stretched her arms and caught him right before he crashed against the floor. She looked down at him, her green eyes wide with concern._

"_Legolas? W-what's the matter?" _

_His eyes shot open, "A-rya. Go. Ride to G-"but before he could finish, his head fell back and he slipped into unconscious. That's when she noticed, the horrendous green colour spreading slowly on the elf's hand._

…

Her stomach did a quick flip. No matter how much she shook him, the elf would not wake. She tried everything, even when splashing water at his face did not work; she proceeded to slap him once and then again. No, no. This couldn't be happening. She could not let him die! He was a famous elf, he was like a brother to the King and and, oh Gods, he was a prince too, wasn't he?

"_Please!"_ she begged quietly.

Shaking her head, she took hold of his arms and dragged him towards the bed. Then, mustering the remaining strength left in her, she lifted him up and rolled him onto the bed. Swallowing hard, she took stepped back and watched him with deep worry imprinted on her pale features. Legola's face was one void of expression. She could almost mistake him to be asleep. She found herself suddenly wishing with all her might that he was, in fact, asleep. That somehow he simply fell due to an extreme fatigue – but she knew better. He was Legolas after all, the legendary elf that fought bravely in the war.

She began pacing back and forth the room, thinking. She had been trained for this. But he had asked her to. He specifically told her to _go_, to ride to Gondor.

"Stupid pointy-ears!" she accused him half-heartedly as she rushed back to his side, her hand touched his burning forehead. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she now paid attention to his horrendous hand wound. Carefully, she picked it up and examined his hand palm noticing the scorched skin, "It's superficial…" she whispered, baffled. Whatever it was, it was spreading in his skin. She was completely at loss at what to do. She could deal with stabbings, infections and poison but this; she had no idea what this thing was.

Arya ran a trembling hand through her messy, dirty hair. She stood up from her crouching position and left the room without sparing a last glance at the room's occupant. She ran through the badly lit hallway and then down the stairs, her eyes immediately met the inn keeper, "I need a healer at once!" she demanded, raising her chin defiantly.

The woman stared. _You cannot be serious! _It was really far in the evening and everyone in the area was probably settled in their warm beds.

She felt something strange take over her. Never before in her life had she gotten this angry. She wanted to throw herself at the woman and strangle her neck with her bare hands, "Did you not hear me? I need a healer! Now or I swear by the Gods!"

This time the woman apparently had heard all she needed to hear. Arya watched as the woman quickly made her way out the door. Only then she allowed herself to be weak as a quiet sob escaped her dry lips.

* * *

_Two Months Ago_

* * *

Arya threw her cloak over the back of a chair and broke into a grin. She looked as if she'd won a big amount of gold.

"So, you're some kind of a big deal, huh? This will be no easy task, brat!" Theo took off his own cloak, eyes narrowing as he turned his back on her, "These killin' are no jokes, lass. Why in the Gods name did you volunteer? You have nothing to prove!" his hands shook as he placed them on the table.

"You do not trust me," she said, "and this is why I am doing it. To prove it to everyone that women can do it too!"

She was suddenly startled when the dark-haired man punched the table. She bit down on her lower lip but quickly stopped it as if she was trying to erase any signs of weakness. She had heard of the mysterious massacres. After all who hadn't? The horrible tales travelled fast, reaching every corner of Middle Earth. They said it was mostly children and women that had been found dead, their bodies mutilated and their limbs piled within strange rite circles. It had been reported that the killing happened during nightfall, there were no screams and no signs of struggle. All pointed that those people had all gone willingly. She knew what she had signed for was not easy.

But when she volunteered in front of everyone, she saw how everyone looked down at her. She was a woman. Therefore they deigned her as something worthless – not fit to even hold a sword. That's when she wanted it more desperately than ever. That's when the most unexpected person spoke out for her. The King himself.

She was not going to let all of this go to waste, not now.

Theo took a deep breath and then spread a set of parchments on the table. Arya lunged forward and bent low over the documents. Gradually, her expression became very serious, and, although none of the pages bore a signature anywhere, it was only a minute or two before she whispered, "Legolas." Looking up, awestruck, she said, "No way! He's tagging along?!"

"Ti's is why this is no joke." He repeated.

"Please," she said, with some disdain, "I am not an amateur. I have trained. I can do this."

There was something in the expression on her face and in the tone of her voice that _almost_ persuaded him that she was on the level. A soft sound interrupted both of them, the door slowly opened to reveal a tall blond-haired elf. His searching blue eyes stopped on the short girl by the table.

"Shit. Are we like leaving now?" she asked, missing the way Legola's brows pushed together.

Theo took another deep breath as he watched her run around to pack her belongings.

* * *

Present day.

* * *

Arya noted that the healer was old. Like, seriously old. The village's ancient walked really slowly and she had to fight the urge to push her towards a still very unconscious elf. She tapped her foot impatiently on the floor as the woman reached for her bag, taking out smelly weird looking herbs. She crossed her arms and began walking in circles. She then came to a halt and hovered behind the healer, her green eyes stalking the woman's every move.

"Is he going to be alright?" she pressed as she watched the old woman spread some brown paste to the elf's skin. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

The woman slowly turned to look at Arya. She had a gentle smile on her wrinkled face, "I know not, m'dear. This will ease the pain and bring the fever down," she paused, "But what is done cannot be undone."

"I beg your pardon? You have to cure him. You have to absolutely make him alright again!" She felt as though someone had punched her in the gut, she tried to breathe but it seemed like the air was being sucked away from her, "Please." She clutched to the old woman's hand, "Please fix him."

The elder woman shook her head, her long white hair billowing after her as she forced herself up, "I cannot do more. His life rests in his own hands. It is darkness, dearie. Darkness rests with him now."

Arya gaped and could do nothing more but to watch as the woman left the room.

Two long weeks passed since Legolas collapsed. Arya had sent a message to the capital and hoped that someone would come for them as there was no way that she would travel with a half-dead elf on her back. Her heart throbbed at her thoughts. She didn't really mean half of the things she said or thought. She actually missed the damned elf, though; she would never admit it aloud, not to herself and most definitely not to anyone else. She missed the way his lips would curve in an almost smile when she ranted about her old life.

She wished that he would have told her anything about his but he was practically a mute, only speaking when absolutely necessary. But then again, if he did rant about his own life then that would mean that he would never ever shut up. How old was he anyway? Gods, she didn't even know how old he was. All that she knew about him were tales of the war and that he was some sort of prince. So practically, he was royalty and she had been riding along him cursing about this and that. How very lady-like. She snorted at her thoughts as she carefully packed the rich soil around the small fern. Not her favourite task but she had to endure it as a payment for the Inn's room as she had practically ran out of funds.

Out of nowhere a new question popped up.

Was he married? That question caught her off guard. Her brain was such a traitor! Why did she care if he was married? Then again, what if he is? What if he has little pointy-ear children running about and there she was, the one that mostly likely contributed to his ill state. She shook her head and tried to get rid of the negative thoughts, it did her no good to dwell on the past. There was nothing she could have done to save her elf companion from his fate.

She shivered suddenly as the grey shadows caught up with her, obscuring the last warming rays of the sun and leaving an ominous portent of disaster firmly entrenched in her mind. Very slowly Arya stood up, dusting the damp soil from her hands before she tilted her head to look up at the bird sitting so still above her in the tree.

"It's going to rain isn't it?" A long sigh escaped her lips.

"It is always raining around here," A familiar voice spoke from behind her.

She whirled around, her green eyes widened in shock as the elf stood right in front of her looking pretty much alive.

"Legolas…" she started, brushing her hand through her forehead, tiny bits of dirt stuck to her skin. Then she blinked. He was still there, "You don't let me sleep a full night but you get to sleep two whole weeks! That's so unfair!" she cried out as she darted towards him. She watched him stiffen as she was about to hug him but then she stopped right on her tracks and decided that a playful punch on his shoulder would do the trick, "You had me worried." She started quietly, casting her gaze down to cover up the stubborn tears that were welling up in her eyes against her will.

"My apologies Arya." He was as gentle and mannered as she remembered. Then he placed a hand on top of her head, surprising her, "I remember specifically telling you to go to Gondor."

Her eyes beamed in response, "Don't worry!" she said, trying to ignore the tears that were running freely down her dirty features, "I have sent a message to the Capital."

Legola's blue eyes softened up at the sight of her tears. He nodded slowly, "It matters not. We shall depart as soon as possible. I shall see you safely at home."

She sniffed and then looked up at him in sheer confusion, "I don't understand."

"Darkness threatens to fall upon us once more, my l-" he interrupted himself as the last time he called her 'my lady' she had kicked him in the shin.

She shook her head, "That is not happening! I will follow this until the very end. I will either return home victorious or dead!"

An unknown emotion flashed through his intense blue eyes as he stared down at the petite woman. He almost ran a hand through his hair in exasperation; she really did know how to push his buttons. When he first came to his senses, he had been relieved to see that Arya had followed his instructions but when the Inn keeper told him that _his_ lady was in the garden, his heart skipped a beat. A strong emotion that he had not felt in years had clawed at him like never before. Anger. Sheer anger at the thought of her ignoring his request.

He dragged himself out to the garden to give her a piece of his mind but then he _saw_ her. For the first time, she had her hair completely down, deep dark locks that brushed against her slender shoulders. He then noticed the simple cream coloured dress she was wearing; he had never seen her wear a dress before as she often hid her womanly curves under those manly clothes.

All thoughts of giving her a hard time disappeared as he took the look in her deep green eyes. That mischievous glint was there, buried underneath the keen intelligence. The way those youthful eyes lit up with happiness at the sight of him made his frozen heart jump for some unknown reason. He noticed how she had been so close to hug him but stopped quickly, an attractive maidenly flush coming to her face as she sheepishly tried to explain how happy she was to see him in her own strange way.

"So yeah pointy-ears!" she added bringing him back from his reverie, "I am certainly not going anywhere!" She leaned forward, challenging him to say otherwise.

* * *

The wind swept across the tall trees, the leaves dancing along in a fantastical dervish. On the clammy ground, the fallen splattered leaves seemed to rise upwards, taken against their will in eddying whirlwinds, the faint light of the moon glimmered by short moments the path ahead, before it was lost in the oppressive darkness that the clouds above supplied. A faint stirring on the muddy path broke through the soft moans of the wind and one masked figure stepped forward into the warmth of the moonlight.

The man whose mask resembled a vulture had short blond hair and every now and then he looked around his surroundings to make sure that he hadn't been followed. Suddenly, he came to a stop and he stared at the empty field in expectation. Then in a single, fluid movement, he knelt down on the weathered grass and lowered his head in a display of subjugation.

For a while he rested, his body trembling with nerves or simply from the gelid cold that reached his bones. Nevertheless, through it all he remained impassive, his slender frame impervious and resilient, utterly majestic.

Small droplets of rain greeted him, his eyes widening slightly as a thin bright blue light shot ahead towards North. He swiftly stood up and walked into the dense forest ignoring the heavy rain that fell down as though the rain itself was telling him not to. To turn around and seek shelter. To turn around before it was too late. But he never did falter.

He finally came to a stop, his eyes locked with the man in front of him. Beside this man, stood two others, they too wore porcelain masks, probably to hide their identities, nothing on them gave away their intentions. A closer look told him that there was more, they were hidden between the trees, taking advantage of the darkness and of the rain.

He shifted their attention back to the figure that was standing in the middle. The bandages that covered half of his face, the ugly scar across his cheek, the walking stick in his hand supporting him. The man wondered why he insisted in leaning to it. He was now fully aware that the man did not need it.

He suppressed a displeasured growl and bowed his head.

"My lord."

"Tell me." The bandaged man's voice was raspy and cold. Scorn and impatience filled in it.

"The elf is dead."

"And what of the little wench?"

There was a small pause.

"She lives."

"I see."

Birds of all colours shot into the sky as loud screams echoed into the forest.

* * *

Aragorn closed his eyes at the grave news. Another village had fallen prey to the massacres and yet again they were left with no clue of who was behind it. There were no sightings of orcs of as late, so they could not place the blame on them. His thoughts went back to his blonde-haired friend and he hoped that he had some answers. His people were growing restless.

He didn't know what to say. The victim's families did not want his condolences, they wanted vengeance – justice. They screamed for the blood of whoever was behind this and he had none to offer.

Arwen shifted beside him and held his hand gently. He looked at her sideways and nodded ever so slightly, appreciating the comforting gesture.

Suddenly, as though his silent prayers had been answer, a man clad in white rushed through the room and bowed his head, "My King. A message."

Aragorn rose and stalked forward, taking the sealed parchment from the man's hand. He looked down at the childish-like handwriting and then he frowned deeply. His eyes scanned the parchment contents, a part of him pleased and relieved to hear about Legola's and Arya's findings. He read its contents and then he shook his head and blinking.

Below the text, Arya had found time to draw the circles rites they had come across. He could identify some of the symbols but others were completely foreign to him. He pushed his brows together when his eyes followed the arrow down pointing to something that at first looked like some sort of Orc. But he then stared closer and was baffled at whatever the strange creature could be. Slowly, he walked back to his wife who was staring back at him with a mix of curiosity and amusement in her beautiful eyes.

As he sat down, she looked over his shoulder, her gaze stopping on drawing of a lying man with exaggerated pointy ears. Then she read the text at the end of the parchment.

"_Do not worry milord, erm, your highness, my kingship. He's in good hands!"_

_Arya._

Aragorn closed his eyes a second time as he could feel a headache coming his way.

* * *

Arya woke up with a soundless scream, clawing at the air with her dry, chapped hands. Her heart was pounding so loud that it drowned out the endless rain slamming against the window and the thunder rumbling overhead. It took her a few moments of breathing hard and glancing around in a panic for her to remember that she was back at the Inn's room.

Wrapping the blankets around her shivering body, she lowered her face into her hands and tried to calm herself down. It was just a dream, she told herself. It was just a dream. Raising her face from her hands, she looked to her left to see the dark figure of Legolas lying next to her. He was looking right up at the ceiling, rigid as a stone, still probably feeling uncomfortable of sharing the bed with her.

'Well tough.' She thought bitterly. As much as she wanted him to sleep on the floor, he had just woken and was probably still fragile as much as he tried to cover it up.

Pretending that she could not see that he was awake, she shifted in bed, looking in his direction, "Pssst. Are you awake?"

"Legolas," she called again, shifting closer in the bed. No answer. Arya frowned and contemplated getting her pillow and hitting him with it.

She pouted and then quietly extended her bony fingers, which seemed to have suddenly developed a mind of her own. She reached out and gently lifted a tendril of Legola's blond hair, amazed at how soft it was. She curled it around her finger, loving the silken feel of the strands as they slid over her skin. She wished that she had long, straight hair like this.

"Arya?" Legolas suddenly asked, jolting her out of her reverie. "Are you going to yank on my hair for the rest of the night?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, turning bright red and retracting her questing fingers like she had received a slap on the wrist. "Sorry," she said quietly.

He didn't reply, but Arya hadn't been expecting one from him. Silence hung in the air for a few minutes as thunder roared outside the window, and raindrops pelted the glass like the succubus begging to be inviting in to do their ghastly deeds. It didn't take long for Arya to realise that she wasn't going to be able to get to sleep.

"I had a nightmare," she said before she could stop herself. The sound of her voice in the cold Inn's room. "It was really scary," she continued, talking more to herself than to him and not caring whether or not he thought she was being a chatterbox. She had to tell somebody about her nightmare, "I was all alone in a strange place. It was some sort of a wicked altar. I don't even know if it was an altar at all, but there was this light, because that's all I could see. But…this light was alive, it had claws and teeth; I knew it did, even if I couldn't see them. I felt it gnawing at me, at my legs, at my arms, clawing at my chest, trying to rip my heart out."

Legolas rolled over and stared at her, but Arya didn't notice. She was once again lost in her nightmare.

"It grabbed me," she continued softly, shuddering underneath her covering of blankets. "And it started dragging me towards…I don't know what. I was really scared. My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to bust through my chest. Maybe that was what they wanted…"

"They?" Legolas suddenly asked, and Arya jumped slightly. She hadn't even known he was listening.

"Yes, them," she said quietly, studying his emotionless face. "The voices in the light; I heard them…laughing at me. I hated their laughter; I really did. It was the laughter of those that are completely gone fruit loops, you know? Only these people seemed to have lost their humanity along with their state of mind."

"What were they doing in the light?" he asked softly. "And why did they want your heart?"

Arya was silent for a long time as she tried desperately to recall something, a tale, or a song, or some kind of bedtime story, from her youth that she had forgotten in her adolescence. The answers were there, in her past, but for some reason she just couldn't remember. "I don't know," she said finally. "I almost remember why, but the answers just aren't coming. Sorry."

Legolas just lay there looking back at her.

Arya's dark eyebrows suddenly knitted together in a frown. "Hey pointy?"

"Yes Arya?"

"Is…it true…that if you die in your dream that you're going to die in real life, or you'll wake up dead or something like that?"

Legola's smirked slightly, "Yes, Arya. It is true."

He watched as she sat up abruptly, "It's not funny! I'm being serious!" She sulked and then she lied back down, turning her back on him.

"Just go back to sleep Arya." He told her quietly as his hand pulled his sleeve up, his blue eyes examining the spreading green colour on his skin, "I'm right here."

She had no more nightmares.


End file.
